Puissance Défun
by Kuruizaki-Hime01
Summary: Xanthe always thought she was an ordinary girl but she soon learns she's a Witch! She goes to Hogwarts and learns about a 'Secret hidden in the basement of Hogwarts' they're determined to learn what it is and why the most evilest man Voldemort is after it. It is Puissance Défun. Rated T for lots of cursing and sexual references


Xanthe Harrington is, to put it mildly, an ordinary girl. Her brown hair is always done up in the best hairstyles you could possibly think of, her skin is beautifully tanned and flawless, her brown eyes are always bright and twinkling with the mischief she harbours deep down and she always wears the latest fashion. She's the most popular girl in her school and is also really popular with the boys. She likes to think herself as normal.

The only thing is, she isn't.

She has the ability to see auras, different coloured light that surrounded people that determine their personalities, which shift from colour to colour with their mood swings. Xanthe can always tell if someone was lying just by looking at their aura or can tell if someone likes her in a romantic way, which is really every boy she ever came across so to speak.

The other thing that doesn't make Xanthe as normal as she wanted was the fact that she could speak to snakes. She could speak to snakes ever since she was a young girl. They would come into her backyard and start up a conversation with Xanthe before her mother chased them away with a broom.

Despite these flaws Xanthe was still a perfect girl, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Until the night of July 29, her day before her thirteenth birthday.

* * *

"Good job girls," the cheerleader coach extolled as the cheerleaders entered the change rooms. "Keep this up and we'll no doubt win the cheerleading nationals."

"Of _course_ we will win the cheerleading nationals this year, we win _every_ year," Xanthe's best friend laughs, pulling off her yellow and blue cheerleading uniform and pulling on her normal clothes. "We have Xanthe, she's a natural-born cheerleader."

"Stop, you flattering me," Xanthe laughs, pulling on her purple blouse that showed ample cleavage. "I have to go straight home now but I'll defiantly come to the mall with you for some birthday shopping."

"Make sure you're there."

The two friends bid each other good bye and parted ways.

"Mum, I'm home!" Xanthe announced as she walked through the front door. "Did Dad come home from work early? His car's parked in the driveway."

"In the lounge room honey," her mother's voice sounded from the lounge room.

Xanthe walked into the lounge room to find both her parents sitting on the double couch, stern looks upon their faces. Sitting in the recliner chair munching on some sherbet lemons was the strangest man Xanthe had ever seen. He had white white hair and a long beard the same colour as well as a white moustache, twinkling blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles and long robes that Xanthe thought was a dress at first. Xanthe thought he could pass for Gandalf from Lord of the Rings.

"Um ... hello?" Xanthe says slowly, not sure what was going on. The Gandalf-look-alike looks up at her.

"Good evening Miss Harrington, would you like a sherbet lemon?" he asks, holding out the lolly towards her.

"No, thank you."

"Xanthe, this is Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts," Mrs. Harrington introduces.

Xanthe had never heard of Hogwarts but didn't tell them that. She decided to look at Dumbledore's aura out of curiosity. His aura was royal blue with a tinge of green, showing that he was very wise but held a lot of secrets, and every now and then a speck of purple would appear, meaning that he was in a really good mood.

"Ah, you looking at my aura Miss Harrington?" Dumbledore asked. Xanthe looked at him with wide eyes, causing him to chuckle. "Don't worry Miss Harrington, you're not the only one who can do that, however your kind are hard to come across these days. Haven't seen one in fifty years."

"Excuse me Mr Dumbledore, but what exactly are you talking about?" Xanthe asked.

"Oh, sorry about that. You're a Videntis, an aura seer. And please, call me Dumbledore or Professor, that's what the students at Hogwarts call me."

"I'm sorry, but what exactly _is_ Hogwarts?" Xanthe asked.

"It's a school of witchcraft and wizardry. Which you are gifted with since you are a witch."

"Excuse me? I'm not a witch," Xanthe says, taking it the wrong way.

"Xanthe, you are a witch," Mrs. Harrington says. Xanthe looked at her mother in shock.

"Xanthe, sit down," Mr Harrington says with his serious voice. Xanthe, who rarely hears him talk that way, instantly did. "Xanthe, we've kept a secret from you for eleven years and think it's time we tell you. We aren't your biological parents. Dumbledore left you at our doorstep eleven years ago on Halloween night."

"Wait - I'm not your real daughter?" Xanthe asked, shocked. "And you never told me?"

"Dumbledore told us to keep your adoption a secret," Mrs. Harrington tells her, grasping her husband's hand. "He told us what you are and to say you are our biological daughter. Of course there were some people we know that knew we didn't have a two year old daughter but they somehow believed it and even had memories of you being born. It turned out that that was Dumbledore's doing."

"What? How?" Xanthe asked, feeling like she was going to faint any minute.

"Just a little spell," Dumbledore says, opening another sherbet lemon and popping it into his mouth. "A spell you would be able to do when you study at Hogwarts."

"I'm not studying at Hogwarts; I have a good life here. I'm not going to learn some hocus-pocus at a school I've never heard of." Then a thought crossed Xanthe's mind and she turned to her parents. "Wait, if I'm adopted than who's my biological parents?"

"I'm glade you asked," Dumbledore says. He places his hand in the lolly bag and his face fell when he realised there were no sherbet lemons left. "Your mother's name is Ivy Saltzman. She was a Videntis is like you. That's where you inherited it from."

"And my father?"

Dumbledore's eyes hardened. "That doesn't matter right now. What _does_ matter is that you need all your school supplies for Hogwarts, which is why I'm here. Hagrid, the keeper of the keys at Hogwarts, will come and get you tomorrow at noon to take you to Diagon Alley with a boy named Harry Potter. Like you he doesn't know about the wizarding world, but I'm pretty sure he does now: I've been sending letters to his house which he should have recieved by now, but I have the suspicion that his uncle has been refusing to let him have his letters."

"Yeah, I'm sorry but I have plans for tomorrow so I can't come," Xanthe says, standing up and starting to head for her bedroom but her mother tells her to stay in a stern voice that Xanthe was not used coming from her.

"You're going to Diagon Alley with Hagrid rather if you like it or not, and that's final," Mrs. Harrington tells her. "I'll tell Isobel that you can't go tomorrow."

Xanthe rolled her eyes and plopped onto the floor, pouting. Dumbledore pulled out a pocket watch and checked it.

"I've gotta go," Dumbledore says, standing up. "I'll see you, Mr and Mrs. Harrington in a year and I'll see you Miss Harrington at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore turned and was gone with a loud _crack_ , causing Xanthe's mouth to drop to the ground in shock. He disappeared in thin air! How the fuck did he do that?

"Xanthe, go to your room," Mr Harrington sighs. "Your mother and I need to discuss something."

Xanthe groaned but did what her father said, shutting her door behind her with a loud _bang_.

* * *

 _September 1st_

Xanthe walked beside Hagrid, a half giant with a shaggy brown beard and hair that was at least shorter than Dumbledore's, and an eleven year old Harry Potter, a boy with black hair, green eyes and a lightening shaped scar on his forehead, pushing her trolley in front of her with her cat, Midnight, that she had bought at a pet shop in Diagon Alley.

"Oh, I have to be somewhere else now," Hagrid says, looking at a pocket watch. "See you two at Hogwards."

Harry was too busy looking at the train ticket. "Hagrid, it says that we have to get on the train at Platform nine and three quarters, but -"

Harry looked up and realised that Hagrid was gone. Xanthe also looked and narrowed her eyes and swung her head to the side where she had seen a guard before, her earrings jingling against her neck. Harry followed her eyes and approached the guard, a fat guy who looked like he would rather be somewhere else.

"Excuse me sir," Harry says shyly, earning a grunt in reply. "Can you tell us how to get onto platform nine and three quarters."

"Seriously? Is this some sort of joke?" the guard scoffs, scratching his belly.

Xanthe stepped forward and rested her hand on the guard's arm, sending a light-blue light into him. Harry's mouth dropped to the ground as the guard's eyes went blank, a serene but creepy smile crossing his face as Xanthe took hold of his will. Another ability that Xanthe has that wasn't listed was that she could force people to bend to her will. She wondered if it was due to being a Videntis.

"Now, now, that's no way to talk to a young boy," Xanthe says in a seductive tone. "How do we get onto platform nine and three quarters, huh?"

"You can't, it doesn't exist," the guard says in a daze.

"Really?" The guard nodded. "OK, go away."

The guard walks away and Xanthe turned to Harry with a hand on her hip and a scowl on her face.

"Well, the guards here are no help," she sighed. "Maybe Hagrid gave us the wrong platform -"

"- packed with Muggles of course -"

"What the hell is a muggle?" Xanthe asked, not being able to help herself and listen to other people's conversations.

"Hagrid said a muggle is what a wizard calls a non-magical person," Harry answers.

Xanthe whirled around, accidently hitting Harry in the face with her hair, and stared at something off in the distance. Six red haired people: a woman who looked like the mother of the group, holding the hand of a young girl, and four boys pushing a trolley of luggage, all with an owl.

"OK, what's the platform?" the mother asks.

"Platform nine and three quarters!" the little girl pipes up.

"Ah, people who know about the damn platform!" Xanthe says in relief, flinging her hands up in the air. She pushed her trolley towards the red-haired family, Harry behind her, and came up beside the woman.

"Hello, sorry to intrude you, but do you perhaps know how to get on platform nine and three quarters? I asked a stupid guard and he was no help."

"Of course, you can't get any help from Muggles on this kind of things," the woman laughs. "Are you two new to Hogwarts?"

"Yeah, I'm a third year and Harry here is a first year," Xanthe answers.

"Well, Fred and George," the woman says, pointing to two identical boys, "are third years too and Ron" - she pointed to a younger boy with dirt on his nose - "is a first year too. Fred, George, would you look after ..."

"Xanthe," Xanthe answers. "My name's Xanthe Harrington."

"Xanthe?" one twin asks, tilting his head to one side.

"What a weird name," the other twin says, tilting his head to the other side.

"Shut up!" Xanthe snapped. "It's not like Fred and George aren't such original names!"

"We're not Fred and George," the first twin says.

"We're Gred and Forge," the other says.

Xanthe blinked in confusion and narrowed her eyes, trying to see their auras.

"Why are you staring at us?" the first twin asks.

"Do we have dirt on our nose like Ickle Ronniekins?" the other one asked.

"Now that you say so ..." their mother says, looking hard at her youngest son.

"No, I was trying to see your aura," Xanthe admitted, fixing her hair.

"Oh, are you a Videntis?" their mother says, rubbing her son's nose with a hankerchief, ignoring his protests. "Haven't heard about them in ages."

"Cool!" the twins chorused.

"Fred, George, show Xanthe how to get on the platform like gentleman."

"Yeah, like gentleman," the first twin says, turning to a ticket barrier.

"We're total gentlemen," the other says, wrapping his arm around Xande and causing her to blush. Which was totally ridiculous because she was used to boys doing that. "Fred, you go in first."

"Yes!" Fred salutes and pushes his trolley in a run towards the ticket barrier. At first Xanthe thought that he was going to crash into it, but when a hoard of tourists passed in front of him and causing Xanthe to swear underneath her breath, but of course George heard that.

"A fowl mouth, huh?" he teased.

"Shut up!" Xanthe snapped with red tingling her cheeks.

"Feisty too," George laughs. "Come on, follow me."

George pushed on his trolley in a run towards the ticket barrier, Xanthe behind him. She closed her eyes, hoping to whatever god there was that she wouldn't crash into the ticket barrier and it turned out that Fred and George had played a trick on her.

Xanthe opened her eyes when she heard the sound of people talking and stopped running. A scarlet stream train with the words _Hogwarts Express_ written on it waited at the end of the platform, students hanging out the windows to speak to their families. Xanthe's mouth was practically hanging open at all the different coloured auras she could see, blues, purples, greens and greys. Behind her Ron and Harry appeared out of nowhere and Harry's expression matched Xanthe's.

"Come on Xanthe," Fred says, pushing Xanthe forward.

"Let's get a carriage before someone else does," George finishes, following behind them.

Fred and George helped Xanthe get her luggage onto the train and they went in search of a free compartment, finally finding one and gleefully sat, Xanthe sitting beside Fred and across from George, their knees touching. Xanthe found herself blushing again. Her, Xanthe Harrington, was blushing because of a boy!

"Xan, can I call you Xan? I'll call you Xan anyway. You said you can see auras? Look at ours and tell us what ours look like."

Xanthe smirked and looked hard at Fred until her vision went blurry. She closed her eyes to straighten her vision up and opened her eyes, an aura now surrounding both twins.

"Hmm ... your aura is purple with a tinge of blue, meaning that you are a renowned troublemaker with a harsh personality." Xanthe tilted her head to the side as she contemplated Fred's aura. "There's also some flashes of green, meaning that you're extremely bored."

"Wow, good job!" Fred says, impressed. "Read George's."

Xanthe turned around to read George's too and found herself blushing again as she stared hard at him. She hated becoming a total blushing mess when she looked at George, it was super annoying. Fred saw her blushing and smirked, unknown to Xanthe, who was too busy staring at George's aura.

"Well, that's strange," Xanthe murmured.

"What's strange?" Fred asks with a sly grin.

"Well, George'a aura is purple with a tinge of red," Xanthe tells him.

"So?" George was confused at her tone.

"It means that George is a troublemaker like you Fred but also has a calmer personality to him," Xanthe admited. "And there's flashes of green too, which is no surprise."

Just then the compartment door slid open and a boy with dreadlocks pokes his head into the compartment.

"There you two are!" the boy says, stepping into the compartment and closing the door behind him and sitting beside George. He looked at Xanthe and raised his eyebrows. "Who's the hot chick?"

"This is Xanthe, she's a transfer in our year," Fred introduces. "Xanthe, this is Lee Jordan, our friend."

"A transfer? Haven't had a transfer before," Lee says, grinning.

"We're only in our third year," George points out.

"Touché. Hey, I hope she's in Griffindor."

"Griffin-door?" Xanthe repeated, tilting her head to the side. "What's that?"

"Griffindor is one of the four houses at Hogwarts," George explained. "Fred, Lee and I are in Griffindor as well as our brother Percy. Entire family was in Griffindor."

"Imagine if Ron isn't put in Griffindor," Fred laughs. "He'll destroy the family tradition."

"Anyway, the four houses are Griffindor, the best house; Hufflepuff, the nerdy house; Ravenclaw, they're just there; and Slytherin, a house full of gits."

"Most of the Dark Wizards these days were in Slytherin," Lee says.

"Even You-Know-Who was in Slytherin house," George nods.

"I don't know who that is," Xanthe frowned. What kind of name was _You-Know-Who?_

"You would want to know You-Know-Who," Fred says, shaking his head.

"Huh?"

"He's the most evilest wizard in the world," George adds.

"Killed a family known as the Potters but their one year old son, Harry, survived," Lee tells her. "The boy's famous now."

"Harry Potter?" Xanthe questioned. The three boys nodded in admiration of the name. "He was the boy who came with me to Kings Cross station. I didn't know he was famous."

"Wait, Harry Potter is on this train?" Fred asked, gawking at Xanthe.

"Yea ...

"Did he have a lightening shaped scar?" Lee asked, also gawking at Xanthe.

"Yep. Right here," Xanthe points to her forehead, tracing a zigzag like Harry's scar. Xanthe then realised that Lee was holding a shoebox in his lap. "What's in the box? A pair of shoes?"

"No," Lee says, opening the box. Fred and George look into the box and both chorus "wow" together. Xanthe, curious on what it was, looking into the box too and screamed so loud that the entire train probably heard her.

"There's a giant tarantula in the box!" she shrieked.

"I know," Lee nods. "I put it there."

"Why would you put the tarantula in the box?" Xanthe yelled, trying to get away from Lee.

"Because it' my pet." Lee had a smirk on his face.

"I'm leaving," Xanthe yells, struggling to get out of the compartment and avoiding Lee and the box at the same time. Xanthe walked down the train until she found Harry getting some food from a trolley, looking like he was getting everything from the trolley. The old woman in charge of the trolley looked up at Xanthe with a warm smile.

"Would you like something off the trolley dear?" she asked.

"No thank you." The old woman nodded and went back to the next compartment.

"Hey Xanthe," Harry nods. "What are you doing at this end?"

"A boy named Lee Jordan had a tarantula in our compartment and I didn't want to be anywhere near it," Xanthe revealed, sitting beside Ron. She noticed Ron's ears turning red and smirked. At least _she_ wasn't the one blushing this time.

"Are you afraid of spiders?" Ron asked.

"God, I hate them," Xanthe answers, shuddering.

"Me too," Ron breaths, eyes widening at the thought of a spider. "Have we officially met yet? My name's Ron, Ron Weasley."

"Xanthe Harrington."

"You're pretty," Ron blurts out, his face turning the same shade of red as his hair. Xanthe laughed and petted his shoulder.

"Don't worry, I get that a lot," she laughed.

* * *

When the train pulled up in Hogsmeade station and all the students jumped off, all wearing their Hogwarts robes. Xanthe struggled with her own.

"God, I'm not used to wearing these," she grumbled. Fred and George came up beside her.

"Alright Xan?" Fred asked.

"I'm fine," Xanthe snapped.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! Oh, and Xanthe too," Hagrid shouts over the heads of all the students. Hagrid led been all down a steep, narrow path to the edge of a black lake, and perched atop of a high mountain on the other side, it's windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many torrents and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid yells as they climb into a boat, exept for Xanthe who stares at the boat in disgust. "All righ' Xanthe?"

"You don't expect me to get in _that_ , do to?" Xanthe asked, pointing at the boat.

"Wha'? You rather swim?" Hagrid boomed in laughter. Xanthe grumbled profanities and climbed into the boat, drawing her knees to her chest. The boats all made their way towards the castle, which Xanthe realised was Hogwarts.

It was big.

When the boats arrived at the other side of the lake and they all got out (finally!) Hagrid led them up towards the castle where a woman was waiting. After she gave a little speech, bla-bla, she led them into the Great Hall and set a hat on a stool, which sang a song:

 _"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

 _But don't judge on what you see,_

 _I'll eat myself if you can find_

 _A smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,_

 _Your top hats sleek and tall,_

 _For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

 _And I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head_

 _The Sorting Hat can't see,_

 _So try me on I will tell you_

 _Where you ought to be._

 _You might be in Griffindor,_

 _Where dwell the brave at heart,_

 _Their daring, nerve and chivalry_

 _Set Griffindors apart;_

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

 _Where they are just and loyal,_

 _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

 _And unafraid of toil;_

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

 _If you've a ready mind,_

 _Where those of wit and learning,_

 _Will always find their kind;_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin_

 _You'll make your real friends,_

 _Those cunning folk use any means_

 _To achieve their ends._

 _So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

 _And don't get in a flap!_

 _You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

 _For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

"That was the worst song I've ever heard," Xande scoffed.

"Better than I've could have ever written," Ron says.

Professor McGonagal started reading out names to be sorted into the houses. Hermoine Grange got into Griffindor, which Xande realised Ron looked disappointed about. She wondered what that was about. McGonagal read out more names until finally ...

"Harrington, Xande!"

Xande gulped and walked towards the Sorting Hat, everyone's auras flashing orange with shock. She could hear some of their conversations and she didn't like some of what they were saying.

\- "Woah, she's hot." -

\- "She doesn't look like a friendly girl. She's defiantly going to be in Slytherin." -

\- "Blimey, what I wouldn't give to bang her." -

\- "Is she a Muggleborn? She doesn't look confortable." -

\- "Xanthe? What a weird name." -

\- "She looks a bit old to be a first year, doesn't she?" -

Xanthe sat down on the stool and McGonagal put the hat on her head, the hat slipping over her eyes. And then she heard a voice in her ear.

"Mmm, a difficult one. A third year and a transfer I see, don't see that every day. I see some hidden darkness in your mind but there's also some light to blend that Darknesss. Ooh, I see your past, which is hidden away in your mind, locked away from even you. But I can see it, can't hide anything from me. So ... where to put you?"

"Stop talking and pick already," Xanthe snapes. "You're ruining my hair."

"Ah, there's some fiery attitude going on for you, so that puts you in Slytherin, and what I saw in your past you do belong in Slytherin, but ..." Xanthe was seriously getting tired of this stupid hat. "You have some strong characteristics about you too. Of, a Videntis are you? That's wonderful, they're extremely rare. Hmm ... you really are a trouble."

Xanthe was about to throw the hat off her and go to a table of her own choosing.

"I've got it!" _About time,_ Xanthe thought. "Don't use an attitude with me girl. You better be ... GRIFFINDOR!"

* * *

 **A/N: the next chapter won't be published until the end of January or at the start of February. This is more a pilot chapter. Xanthe is played by Nina Dobrev. If you don't know who she is than go to this story on my wattpad, I have a picture of her on the first chapter. My account is the same as here (Kuruizaki-hime01)**


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